Warm Bodies
by TigerLily957
Summary: They knew of no specific memories. Just a blurry, vestigial knowledge of a destroyed world that was gone forever. For she was stranded in an apocalyptic wasteland, until she met him. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all. BBRae.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, fellow readers.**

**This story will be loosely based on the zombie-apocalypse movie/novel "Warm Bodies". It will be somewhat of an AU, with a Teen Titans twist to it. **

**Enjoy. **

_Disclaimer - I do not own the superhero team of five named the Teen Titans._

* * *

Approaching footsteps pattered down the tile hallway. She moved swift and steadied, drowning out the distracting sounds from the outside world with low hums. As the light noise came to a halt, the robed woman poked her head around the corner to study the figure staring out the window.

The woman was thinly framed, vaguely possessing any curves in her body. She had wolfish eyes in the color of a muddied purple. Enough watered down hue in them to contrast against her paled face. She removed the white hood from her head, allowing black hair to tumble over her shoulders. Turning to her guest, she pursed her lips—as they were now chalky and blue with a bitter cold. She stared the hooded figure down, eyes narrowing as she assessed her trembling body. The woman was ghostly in appearance, and quite frankly, aware of it.

"I assume you've brought news." She removed her hand, that had been pressed against the window, and turned her body around to face the young woman. "What of it?"

"We haven't much time." The messenger cleared her throat and entered the room, drawing nearer to her master. "All will be destroyed before nightfall. I fear he's returned, Arella."

Arella balked at the drastic remark, cutting off the messenger from further information. "Spare the details of Trigon's uprising. What of Raven?"

"The temple has prepared a dimension for the child." She lowered her head. "It is our only option for the fitting timeframe."

"Will she be accompanied?"

"No." She shook her head. "There isn't enough time. The voyage must be done alone. From what I've gathered, a nearby homeland in the two thousandth, two-hundred and eighty-second sector. Possibly of the Citadel." Arella's eyes widened.

"_No_," she commanded. "The child will not be sent anywhere in the territory of Citadel. Inform them of a change."

"My lady," she whispered. "Where?"

"Tell them—" Arella became silent, glancing over her shoulder to look out the window before blankly staring at her messenger. "Earth."

"Are you sure that is wise, lady Arella?" she questioned. "Our counsel has heard plenty speculation of their species. Plagues have spread among them, as they have died in numbers. The planet itself shares the fate of Azarath, if not worse. The child—"

"The child will be sent where I see fit. Tell them I have made a decision. Plagued or not, there is enough time for her prosperity than that in the presence of Citadelians. The counsel will agree to a plagued Earth than a wrongful death," she hissed. "That will be all. Run and inform them of the change."

"Please reconsider—"

"That will be all." Arella turned her back to the woman, fixating her eyes on the panoramic view from the window. "I am certain you will run and inform the temple of my final change." The corner of her lips dragged downward to form a disgusted scowl. "With Godspeed."

"Of course, my lady. My sincerest apologies for—" the messenger trailed off mid-sentence to bow shamefully before backing out of the study. "I wish it were otherwise for the child."

With a final apology, she left Arella in silence.

"Under circumstances, the wrongdoings of him shall not prosper," Arella whispered. "You forever had the love of your people, Raven. Even knowing what would come and what that would bring."

A blinding flash came from afar, where a missile of bright flames struck and a white cloud plumed in the air. Pillars of thick smoke and heavy dust, boiled up from where fiery masses had gone off underground.

A plethora of bright flashes broke out, spreading ember-colored gasses and gushes of rising flames. The next ground-rumbling blast of flames and smoke created four massive walls of fire. The flames surrounded her temple, turning from a dark green to blue as they swayed. It switched back through its color spectrum to a dark red and soared as it began to dissipate in the atmosphere. Large geysers of molten lava and hot ash spouted upward from the soil; some landing on the roof. It melted through the ceiling and from the outside, created a pool of bubbly liquid to form a flowing river filled with debris and steam.

Her eyes widened as she stared at the dark figures crawling through the heavy smoke. From every corner of the land came the signs that the end was upon her. Rotten and disease-ravaged skeletal creatures stalked the entire temple as the gathered in mass crowds. Spotting the woman staring at them from the large window, they hissed at her; some climbing up the walls, some ripping away its foundation, and some barging through the temple's locked doors.

As the floor rumbled beneath her feet, Arella rested her forehead against the windowpane and let her eyes slowly shut.

"I have hope for you, Raven."

* * *

In the midst of a molten lava flood that poured from the underground hole, a rotted hand gripped the ground as the skeletal figure crawled its way out. The creature hunched over and stared at the crumbling city, waiting for its counterpart to follow.

"He will not be pleased," the creature from behind hissed lowly as it rose from the hole. "The child is gone."

"The witch must have sent her away."

"But where—"

The two skeletal figures turned their heads as a beam of white light flashed across the skyline before disappearing. The creature stole a glance at its counterpart's face. Dark, sunken snake-eyes darted around, void of all emotion. It smirked, rotted lips already crumbling apart. Its bones cracked as it turned its neck to face the second figure. "Where the pod goes, the child must go."

"Follow it. Destroy anything in its path," it hissed.

"As for the child?"

"We save her for last as He instructed." The skeletal creature stomped away from its counterpart. "We will make our home soon."

"He will be pleased."


	2. Chapter 2

_Present Day.._

Husks of old building remains fell through ceiling cracks and onto the broken tile, exposing a large hole. A dark sky reflected back, in shades of dark red and orange. Perhaps early morning, perhaps the beginning of nightfall—she wasn't quite sure anymore. She gazed up at the newfound opening, before sighing and moving away. It wouldn't be long before more climbed through and made a brief residence in the airport. The quicker she foraged for food, the sooner she could get back to the bunker.

She brushed past large, tangled vines hanging from the grimy roof and used her left boot to kick past remnants of shattered glass and rotted wood frames. Through the crevices of crumbled stone, vegetation had grown through. The area carried a distinct stench of urine, blood, and tar. A horrid combination, and even more cringeworthy to walk through. To her right, a freshly burned car, lined with melted tires.

Perhaps—life inside.

She ran toward it, rummaging through the charred insides for a body. Any sign of a heartbeat. She ran her hand over the car's metal frame, seeing if she could sense any aura or life form. Deeming the car abandoned, she felt underneath the burned seats and halted when she came in contact with a box. Biting her bottom lip, she pulled the box out and threw it on the ground. It was of a medium size, cardboard, yet heavy. Inside, two paperback books, a toothbrush, stale saltine crackers, a half empty water bottle, and necklace. The engraved encryption had been in a dialect she had yet to learn.

The items were fresh, meaning the person had been there recently. If they made it alive, she highly doubted it. Tossing the necklace over her shoulder, she stuffed the remainder of food and books inside her cloak and lifted from the ground. She had to keep moving.

She sluggishly dragged her feet forward, forcing herself through each empty terminal of the dark airport. On rare occurrences would the power flicker on. She fiddled with a light-switch, disappointed to find that it did not light the entire building. She lifted her head as monitors and screens jolted a brief second before shutting down. She sighed.

Underneath the heavy cloak that draped around her shoulders, and dark hood that concealed her face, one hand wrapped around her butcher knife and the other on her pocket bag. In a sense, she wasn't sure when she started carrying knives with her. She never really needed them nor was she afraid. Perhaps it was a precaution for when things began to get haywire. She never knew when her "handy dandy" powers would bail on her. She never knew when she'd be attacked.

Normally, the corpses that waltzed through the terminals were harmless. They possessed no heartbeat, no warmth in their body, no sign of life. She figured they were humans long ago, eaten and left for dead by the shadowy creatures that stalked the night and dark corners that people normally avoided. Their appearance was frightening by the least. Bone-like, demonic, and hysterically delirious. They'd wait for anyone—and anything to cross their paths. It was better she remained unseen by them for so long. They practically devoured anything with a heartbeat.

She thought back to a young woman she had seen years ago. Fairly beautiful, and barely in her teenage years. The girl had a warm glow to her, something she had not seen in her lifetime. Before she could approach the woman, they cornered her. First there were two, then twenty, then eighty-four. She could never forget the piercing screams of the woman as they sunk what left of rotted teeth into her flesh and chewed. Some climbed on her shoulders, gnawed at her legs, allowing her to drop to the ground. Black blood spattered the walls. She hardly stood a chance. They never came back for her either, leaving her rotting body as apart of the group. They apparently had enough decency to leave the brain alone, opting for the flesh instead. Brain intact, she rose days later. She was now one of the many that resided in the empty airport. A corpse.

Harmless, by the least, unless one was also in the possession of a heart and brain. Their favorite delicacy. Though they, ironically, possessed a brain.

It always pained her to watch the brain dead woman walk lifelessly past her everyday. She'd grunt a word to her every now and then. It was always, "Hungry" or "City". Never a full conversation. Perhaps she'd accidentally bump her with her shoulder, to the woman's dismay as she'd watch the corpse's rotting body fall apart. Maybe push in an eyeball when it'd slowly hang from its socket. She frowned. She'd never see the girl's warm glow, feel her emotions, or have a decent conversation again. All she remembered is the helpless look she gave her before she was attacked. Her powers were of no use.

And she could do nothing but watch as they tore her flesh apart, devouring gummy pieces of splattered heart and raw flesh.

She gripped her hand tighter around her knife. It was better to have backup than be eaten to death. Her eyes traveled up to the end of the hallway. She met the lifeless girl's gaze as they passed one another.

"_City_," the girl grunted before she lowered her head and looked to the ground.

"Yeah, K," she mumbled. "City."

She sighed, walking past the corpse. That's all she'd ever say to her. City. There wasn't a city. There'd never be a city. She didn't even remember what a city—or better yet—her city used to look like anymore. She grew fond of the lifeless woman over time, nicknaming her "K". When she had tried to revive her after the corpse attack, feeling for any emotions or memories, she could only pick up vivid images of bumblebees and a name beginning with "K". She couldn't remember the rest.

She watched her cloak ruffle as she continued to walk, catching a glimpse of her skin. Her legs were pale like milk—a soggy gray hue. She needed more sunlight, and protein, and better posture. Perhaps the corpses would respect her more if she stood straighter. But they couldn't.

She longed to feel their emotions, connect with them mentally. It had been so long since she felt emotions. They were strong, kept her mind steady, and sometimes—overwhelming. But she was lucky to even feel grief, and that usually came from the brave souls that ventured out—to only meet their death. She couldn't connect with them.

They were dead.

The guy in the corner, dead. The half rotted woman crawling past her, dead. The group awkwardly staring at one another and grunting, dead. No emotion, no life.

She wasn't dead—however. Somehow she managed to stay alive and in their good graces. It was odd how they never targeted the half-demon, non-corpse walking around. Perhaps corpses didn't have an appetite for her. Half demon, half human. A half heart, half death. Perhaps she was already considered "half dead" to them. One thing she was quite aware of: she made no exception to the skeletal creatures that lurked the area. Her first encounter with them, barely making it to her hideaway as she was bloodied and bruised, informed her that they were certainly not harmless. In which, she maintained to stay far away from these bony creatures as possible. She was mildly surprised that between these two inhuman species, they hadn't killed off the rest of the humans.

They probably had, she wasn't sure.

She wished she could introduce herself to the corpses, but feared them in a way. Feared having them be made aware of her heartbeat, of her humanoid distinction, hence the hood, and feared their way of death. More importantly, she feared having to remember her name. It had been so long since she used it. She remembered it had started with an "R", but would swallow down the letters as it was too painful to say the rest.

She barely remembered her birth mother and her face, with what little time they had spent together. All she had known was of her power, her heritage, and her downfall. It wasn't much, but kept the young woman with enough information to dig daily for more.

She looked around the once functional baggage claim area and frowned. Bodies of piled corpses, lay. Some grunting helplessly, some sluggishly walking in circles, some eyes closed—or possibly fell out their socket again. She kept her head low, attempting to keep her presence unnoticed by the preoccupied dead. The irony.

She figured they had been there, in the airport, a long time. Some still have all their flesh, in which she assumed died at a much younger age. There are older ones as well, though not yet a skeleton, carried bits of hanging muscle and tissue, dried and waxy as it flopped when they moved. Sometimes she would try to imagine what they were in their lifetime. A janitor, a personal trainer, a corporate CEO, a single mother. She usually had a hard time wracking her mind to piece together how such an apocalyptic event could occur. It could have been chemical warfare, perhaps an airborne virus, maybe even a radioactive monkey outbreak. She had arrived when it was far too gone to even question where she was currently stranded, and why it had been such a wasteland. It didn't really matter anymore. She preferred silence and isolation to begin with.

A part of her figured it must have been better before. Things were not always like this. Everyone could express themselves, communicate their feelings, and surround themselves in each other's company. Perhaps this mere curious part was blinded by the fictional passages she'd find in her collection of books. They were torn, tattered, barely readable, but enough to occupy her mind and time. Self-taught, she'd reiterate. She would be self-taught.

At some point in her expedition, she just gave up. She lost hope. It was mentally and physically draining to be lonely—and lost.

Literally. She had never been in that part of the airport before, finding it best to turn back.

Making her way down the hallway, past the terminals, and through the building's gaping hole, she wondered if all the beings inside were lost too. She stepped foot onto the outside, listening to the gravel crunch underneath her foot as she ran down the empty street. She wondered if they wandered, but had never gotten anywhere. Perhaps they felt trapped. Perhaps they wanted more. A part of her wanted more, but feared the unknown.

Halfway to her destination, she thought of the necklace she had thrown. It would be a nice piece to her collection. Glancing over her shoulder to peer at the airport, she sighed and decided to walk back.

Perhaps they have given up too.

She couldn't have been the only one—could she?

* * *

His boots creaked against the wood planks as he approached the small podium. The two teenagers, one boy and girl, quickly followed behind him. He slowly wrapped each finger around the sides of the stand, black leather gloves producing a low rubbery sound in the process. He was a tall man. Unremarkably defined in shape, much less bigger than his thin-framed citizens. He had a stature of health and strength.

He stared at the crowd as a void of dead silence filled the area. From outer appearance, a mask he wore in the colors of black and copper exposed a slit for one eye to peek through. No one ever seen his face. He was a man of few, cunning words—the deep gravelly rasp in his voice only tempted the citizens' imagination as they fantasized his hardened features of an immobile face, gray hair slicked back, and the slight ominous glint in his eye. He tapped the microphone, which had produced a wave of crackly sounds, and observed the people as they winced. The boy behind him covered his ears, shooting a skeptic look to the girl next to him. She could only shrug her shoulders. When all was silenced, he slowly lifted his right hand to quiet any remaining voices, and cleared his throat.

"Hello," he welcomed. "I would like to thank you all for your service and patronage today." He paused for effect, staring the crowd down before continuing. "In the eighteen years since this 'plague' destroyed our once untainted world..."

"Terra. Hey, Terra. Terra, look. Hey Terra," he whispered, nudging her arm. The girl next to him remained in a stiff posture, hands firmly clamped behind her back. He nudged her arm again with his elbow. "Terra—"

"_Gar_," she ground out through her clenched teeth, glaring at him from the corner of her eye. "The president is speaking, don't be rude."

"You scared?" he replied, a smug look crossing his face. Gar silenced himself when the man speaking, turned his head to the side, barely looking over his shoulder at the two standing behind him. With a slight tenseness in his body, the man apologized to the crowd and continued with his speech. Gar's face paled.

"Thanks a lot," Terra muttered, placing a lock of hair behind her ear. She dropped her gaze to her worn, brown boots and scuffed them against the floor. "You're lucky he didn't kick us off the mission right now—in front of everyone."

"Slade, Schmade," he mumbled, waving his hand to rid himself of the thought. "So..You think we're getting this medicine stuff for a cure or something?"

"...since we erected this wall after the destruction of our city, we have counted on our young volunteers like you," Slade gestured his hand toward the two figures behind him. Terra flinched as the crowd began to fall into hysterics with a roar of applause and stamping of their feet. She lifted her eyes to look at Gar, who provided the citizens with a toothy grin and acknowledging wave of his hand. She swallowed nervously, letting her eyes travel back to the ground. "As they gather our survival resources from beyond the wall."

"No one believes in a _stupid_ cure anymore, Gar," she whispered.

The boy standing beside her stopped waving, a puzzled look crossing his face as he furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

Terra sighed. "I mean—"

"...But first, a word of caution for our volunteers." The crowd silenced, settling their eyes on the leader before them. He turned his back to the crowd, letting his stare fall onto the two. "Corpses may look human, but they are _not_. Am I understood?" he hissed.

"Yes, sir."

"Totally."

"Good." He paced the floor in front of them, soles of his boots squeaked against the wood. "They do not think and they do not bleed. I do not care if they were your family or your best friend—" Terra and Gar exchanged glances. "These _creatures_ are beyond your help. They do not care, they do not feel, and they are incapable of remorse. Are we understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Uh, sure."

"Excellent." He halted pacing to face the crowd once more. "As these volunteers are the sons and daughters of the sole remaining human settlement on our beloved Earth, keep in mind that you are a critical portion. You are the humanity that stands between humanoids and extinction." A palpable excitement and determination buzzed throughout the air. Citizens carrying infectious grins shook hands and patted one another on the back as they cheered. "Mark my words when I inform you that you have an obligation to return to our enclave safely." The two nodded. "Remember your training, you will return victoriously. I bid you good luck, Godspeed, and—

Terra mumbled, "God—"

Gar smirked. "Bless—"

"_America_!"

The final words of the speech boomed over the crowd as they provided an uproar of applause and cheering. A smile tugged at the corner of Gar's lips as he watched the spontaneous outpour of emotion from his fellow citizens with pride. He was dragged from his bravado as a body roughly brushed against him.

He lifted his eyes, to meet Slade's glare. The man leant down, the mask reaching Gar's ear. "You will bring my apprentice back in one piece, Logan. Do _not_ fail me," he hissed, shoving past the young man. "Get suited up." Gar stumbled back as Slade stomped away.

The small of his back was held upright by a hand. He turned and smiled at Terra. "Thanks."

"Don't worry 'bout it." She returned the acknowledgement, patting him roughly on his shoulder. "You heard the man, let's go."

He grinned, bowing as he outstretched his arm for the girl to walk. "Lead the way, m'lady."

She giggled, playfully bumping past his shoulder. "You're so weird."

"I know."

* * *

"Gun?"

Gar patted his body, moving down to his legs, as he eventually felt the object inside his pocket. "Uh, right here."

The boy glowered. "Remember how to use it?"

"Hey, Robin?" Terra called from her seat on a nearby rock. The spiky-haired young man turned to look at her. Terra giggled. "If Gar's got half the brain up there," she tapped the side of her head. "I'm totally sure he knows how to use that toy gun. Even after your fifty hours of '_intense training_'," she mocked, pounding her fist in her hand. The group of teenagers surrounding her began to chuckle. Robin scowled and marched away.

"Totally joking, dude!" Terra called as his figure became distant. "Yeesh, strike a nerve?"

"He is just concerned," the girl seated beside Terra added. She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We are afraid for your well-being."

"I know, Kori. Just wish he'd loosen up a bit. We're all scared."

"He's so gonna miss me," Gar replied, shoving a flashlight inside his dark green backpack.

"Too bad I'm not," a voice muttered from behind. He tossed a second flashlight to Gar, in which the thin boy clumsily dropped. Gar scrambled to pick up the fallen object. "I'm sure gonna miss kickin' your butt at—well—everything."

"Shut up, Cy," Gar grumbled, slowly peeling himself from the ground. "Dude, I'm so gonna make it back."

"Uh-huh."

"Me and Terra. Awesome duo! Right, Terra?" She tied the laces of her boot together and snatched the small yellow backpack beside her. The three looked at her expectantly for an answer, when she did not respond, they shot a confused look to Gar.

He furrowed his eyebrows, walking toward the girl as she continued to vigorously pack. Gar studied her with his eyes as she dropped her gaze back to her backpack. "Terra? You okay?"

"Yep." She zipped up the side of her backpack and adjusted the straps. "Just—focused. I guess."

"Well...We're gonna come back. We're the awesomest duo ever." He frowned. "Right?"

She paused, staring at the ground a brief moment. Shaking away her trepidation, she brushed hair away from her face and rose. "Yeah," she replied softly, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "We'll make it back."

* * *

The trek outside the enclave had been the hardest. Once, was a big city like Jump City. It had been ravaged and drastically torn through, that they were unaware of where they were exactly located. With the nearby water supply and saltwater moat, in which a large wall was built around, many had assumed the enclave was once a pier. It had been so greatly devastated that they could only base assumptions off their discoveries. A rusted Ferris wheel, rotted benches, scattered planks of wood, and blown apart stuffed objects. Perhaps stuffed animals, though they didn't dare approach it.

The main land, where they typically retrieved supplies became derelict and abandoned. Rarely, did they find the surviving refugees seeking shelter outside the wall. If brought back to the security post leading into the enclave without the slightest bit of normalcy from disease, they were shot on sight for fear that they brought the plague with them. The security process wasn't Gar's favorite part. In fact, he ran away from refugees. He wanted no connection or affiliation with them.

There were no more burials or funerals held for the deceased. Their bodies were to be immediately cremated and ashes spread outside the wall. It was a normal thing to see, for he grew used to death.

Particularly his parents.

He had been chased by corpses many times throughout his life. But once, he could have sworn he seen a walking skeleton of some sort, stalking through the shadows and dark alleyways, preying on the living. He figured their method of feasting was much more brutal than that of a corpse. Those other things, killed ferociously. Many claimed that he was dreaming, imagining things, of some sort. His accusations and sightings frightened many people, at one point, they even threatened to throw him outside of the enclave. Fear of potential insanity. So he hadn't spoke of it again. Perhaps maybe he was dreaming. He learned to accept things, even when he did not agree. It was his only way of survival.

They climbed over the broken sidewalks and cars, using flashlights to shine light in every direction. There wasn't anymore electricity outside, as a multitude of workers had perished. They were lucky enough to find luxuries of clean water and food that hadn't spoiled on their expedition.

"Where are we going?" he whispered.

"I heard last night there's an airport a few blocks from here," Terra replied, shining her light at a small alley cat that ran away. She shook her head. "Probably five more minutes to get there. No one's been inside before."

"So why are we going?" he shrieked, keeping his voice as low as possible. He certainly didn't need to attract attention. "We don't even know what's _in_ there!" Terra rolled her eyes.

"Live a little, Gar," she drawled, pulling on the straps of her backpack. "We gave Slade our word to bring back supplies. Airports are freakin' huge. I bet the place is loaded with stuff."

"Yeah?" Gar huffed, jogging to catch up to her side. "Well I don't trust him. Why doesn't he ever go on these missions, oh wonderful _apprentice_?"

"You know—" Terra's backpack shoved into him. "You're such a jerk sometimes." She scowled, increasing her pace to walk away from him.

"Hey!" Gar chased after her. "Hey, dude," he said in a softer tone, slightly out of breath from his mini jog. "It was a joke. I was joking about the apprentice thing, chill."

"Wasn't funny," she huffed, folding her arms over her chest. Her facial expression softened. "He knows what he's doing, Gar. Just—trust me on this."

"Alright, alright." He held his hands up in surrender. "I trust you. I just—I dunno—I'm kinda—"

She smirked. "_Weird_?"

"Totally," he chuckled.

"That's okay." She shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly. "I'm kinda weird too. I like weird."

The sudden blurted remark caught the trekkers off guard, as they awkwardly avoided eye contact, opting to fill the void with dead silence.

Gar shoved his hands in his pocket, mentally chastising himself. "So," he cleared his throat. "Wanna hear a joke—"

"We're here."

He followed her finger as pointed to the crumbled building before them. The sidewalks were cracked and seas of empty gun shells blocked the entrance. Broken store fronts and toppled over lamposts made for an obstacle course to get through, decorated with waste and debris. She jumped over the lamppost, reaching her hand back for Gar's.

"You comin', ya big chicken?" she taunted.

"Yeah."

Gar tentatively took her hand, climbing over the lamppost, but not with much grace as he tripped over his feet. He got up from the ground, dusting himself to rid of the shells and debris clinging onto his shirt. He stared at the dark entrance before turning his attention to Terra. "You sure you wanna go in there?" he whispered.

"Five minutes, tops. Please, Gar. Come on." She batted her eyelashes, lips pouted, as she jumped up and down. "We'll make it back. Like you said."

Gar took a step back and eyed his surroundings. He scrunched his nose as he reassessed the building before he sighed. "I guess. It looks so creepy—"

"Score!" she cheered, pulling on his arm as they ran to the doors. "I promise you're not gonna regret it. We're gonna find so much cool stuff in here."

"I hope so, Terra," he mumbled under his breath.

* * *

**Second chapter completed! I hoped you enjoyed and continue to read/review. Thank you. **


	3. Chapter 3

_"On the count of three. Okay?"_

"One—"

"Two—"

"Three—"

They pushed the doors apart, wedging into the small crack as quickly as possible. He cocked his head to the side, motioning for her to enter first. Terra slid through with ease, holding out her hand afterward for Gar to grab. He held onto her hand, squeezing his body between the tight space with a grunt. His face had flooded with a red tinge as he pressed the sides of the door to heave himself up.

"I'm stuck!"

"Hold on—" Terra slipped the straps of the backpack off her shoulders and rushed over to her comrade. She clenched her teeth, pulling the door back with what little strength she had. "This thing's jammed! Just—" Terra stepped away, stroking her chin as she observed the situation. His upper body had been inside of the airport doors, but his lower half had been trapped outside. Gar slumped over. "Just give me a moment! I'm thinking."

"No pressure," he cooed, waving his hand dismissively. "Not like my insides are totally being crushed together or anything!"

"Gar, the doors are jammed. What do you expect me to do?" She frowned and placed a hand on her left hip. "You think you can—I dunno—wait like five minutes?"

"I can't just stay out here!" he wheezed. A panicked expression crossed his face and he pounded his fists against the door. The doors slid open, forcing Gar to tumble forward. His body slid across the floor, coming to an end as he face-planted next to Terra's feet. He lay in place, arms tangled, rear lifted in the air, and knees shaking.

"They couldn't have done that earlier?" he grumbled, lips pressed against the dusty floor. "Not cool."

"Told you to wait." Terra snatched the nape of his shirt and hauled him up. Gar brushed away the debris from his shoulders.

"I think I swallowed a dead bug," he gagged, wiping his mouth across the back of his hand.

"Ew." Terra shook her head. She took a step forward, letting her surroundings sink in.

Terra grimaced at smell of wet mildew and Gar could barely breathe through the air as it was thick with dust. As they looked around for a light-switch, and found none that worked. They were grateful for shafts of light that burst through small crevices and cracks in the boarded up windows. A ray of warm sunlight beamed on his shoulders and he stopped moving. Gar lifted his head, observing the hole formed in the ceiling.

"Think that's new?" he whispered.

Terra dug in the front pocket of her backpack and retrieved a flashlight. She shone the light around the opening. "I think so. Something big had to climb in here. Or rip it apart."

"Like what though? Godzilla?! Or zombies—" He shuddered, imagining hoards of rotted skeletons ripping apart the ceiling and slithering down the walls. "Uh. Maybe we should go." His knees wobbled. "It's probably still here."

She clicked a button, shutting off her flashlight, and placed it inside the backpack's pocket. "We can't just go, Gar. We have orders for—"

"Food and medicine," he repeated, rolling his eyes dramatically. "I know! I know. But dude, let's be honest here, do you know how much medicine the enclave goes through in a month? For a cure?!"

"I told you, there isn't a stupid cure."

"Uh, whatever you say." When she could not respond, opting to turn her head, Gar frowned. "Come on. This place gives me the creeps. Look at my arm, I'm getting the heebie-jeebies."

"We need food and pharmaceuticals to survive, Gar. I wanna just check it out." She wrapped her arm around his, giving a reassuring squeeze. "Don't freak out. We can't bail now. Five minutes, I promise."

"I dunno." Gar shrugged, eyes fixating on the hole in the ceiling.

"This way."

He began to walk again when Terra patted his arm, ushering him to keep moving forward.

The airport was unnaturally still, and the only audible noise was the sound of their hitched breathing. Side by side, the pair advanced deeper into the airport's security check-stand with a gravelly crunch beneath their feet with every step. Gar's hand instinctively hovered over his pocket, in which the gun was concealed. He considered pulling it out before Terra gave the signal that the portion of the airport they were in was all clear. He nodded, occasionally peering over his shoulder to double-check. Dust was layered over every piece of machinery and furniture; some left behind fossil-like footprints as large dust bunnies tumbled silently across the floor. Stacks of blank paper and documents were either piled or scattered around the security desk. Piled up cardboard boxes were ripped and rummaged through as they passed by them. Old coffee cups lay untouched on a side table, encrusted with thick, yellow dust and dried up mold.

"Guess this is it."

"And you guys say my room is dirty," he muttered. "This is way worse."

She shrugged her shoulders, brushing past him. "There's no way you can compare your room to this. This is like—paradise."

"Hey!" Gar whined, following behind her. "I changed it up a bit! You've gotta admit, gimme some credit!"

Terra folded her arms over her chest. "Picking up one dirty sock from the stack isn't changing much, Gar! Well, I guess that's one less sock to clean." She scratched her chin. "If only we could see the rest of the floor—"

"Hey!"

"I'm totally kidding! Chill out, dude." Her head turned from side to side as she looked around. "Anyways, there's gotta be some kitchen or something around here—"

"Uh, Terra?"

"What?"

"Why not try the food court?" He pointed at a sign, dangling on one end, above the terminal entrance.

* * *

She swatted away the maze of drooping spider webs clinging onto the sides of the wall. Making her way out of the exit, she plucked pieces of cobweb from her hair and stuffed the necklace inside her cloak's pocket. It was harder to find, considering the place she had thrown it earlier was underneath a table. She had to reach her hand underneath and pat around for the necklace until she finally found it.

She tugged the hood over her head and began to walk. The hallway tile was cracked with brown and green undergrowth sprouting through as she stepped past it. Her footsteps echoed around the deserted terminal, sounding overtly loud in her own ears, while she attempted to slow down. There was a crunch of gravel and the sound of a foot sinking into dirt behind her, not the kind of continuous silent noise she had been immune to. Her face paled as it occurred a second time, a definable crunch of a small footstep.

The darkness pressed in on her as she fought against her body's urge to turn around. The low grunt behind her was heavy and burdened. She dug in her pocket, fumbling around for her desired object, before she wrapped her fingers around the thick handle. Looking over her shoulder, she unsheathed the butcher knife, pressing the figure against the wall, and held the knife to her attacker's throat. She hissed fervently, four slits of red eyes glowed underneath her hood. From the little bit of light shone on her face, revealed two rows of sharp fangs, dripped with saliva. The cloaked woman appearance ravenous, digging the knife deeper into the corpse's soggy flesh.

"R," the corpse grumbled, prodding a thumb to her chest. "K."

Recognizing her voice, R blinked slowly, eyes shifting back into their typical violet hue. She cautiously backed away from K, taking in deep breaths. The lifeless woman stared at her with a blank expression, half rotted hand gently pushing the knife away. The use of an angry emotion was—humanly—something K could not comprehend about R. K looked the woman up and down, a part of her wanting to figure this being out and another part lifeless yet unwillingly unable to. R sighed, tucking her weapon of choice away.

"Sorry," she replied in a deadpan tone. "I thought you were someone else." When she could only receive the tilt of K's head and a piece of flabby muscle fall from the corpse's arm, alerting her that K did not understand her, she frowned. "Nevermind."

The corpse shrugged half-heartedly, beginning to waddle away, though much faster than before. She had never walked that fast before—unless it was feeding time. R's eyebrows furrowed and she began to follow her. "Where are you going?"

There was a pregnant pause as K stopped waddling to slowly turn her head toward her friend. The bone-grinding screeches in K's body when she turned caused R to clench her teeth together and grimace. She blinked idly, a piece of flesh from her lips hung over the side of her chin. She lifted a hand, patting her abdomen. "Need...it." Her hand moved from her stomach and toward the door. "Hungry." The corpse waited for a response and started to shuffle away when R nodded.

If there were more humans, perhaps she could save them.

They pushed through a double door with bloodstained windows. Before the attack, the blood was fresh and warm, as R had once remembered. Over time, it dried into a jet black, leaving streaks splattered over the glass. Once they entered, to the right of the waiting room, was a little wooden table leaning with one propped up leg. On top of it, was a glass vase with muddied water and droopy, dead flowers hanging over the edge. More sluggish beings began to join their group, grunting incessantly as they walked in sync. She figured they grunted over chatter for food, or simply to make noise. Her eyes traveled to K, who had remained unmoved, head bobbing weakly as she dragged her feet forward. R squeezed her eyes shut, wrapping her arms tighter around her body.

She began to chant under her breath, allowing her body to soul project—to search out for any vital source of life. She could find nothing. As the group rounded the corner, she stumbled over her feet, almost knocking down an entire row of corpses. They hissed threateningly as she was held upright by K.

She could feel it—life.

The plethora of emotions emitted from the room and their scent electrified her nostrils. It was abrupt, intense, and satisfying. There was not one, but two. She reveled in its warmth, allowing her eyes to roll to the back of her head. They were close, they were near.

She stopped walking, hesitant to enter the room in which they were in. She knew how the scenario would play out, and for a moment, her thoughts betrayed her as she shouted to the group of corpses, "No!"

They did not listen to her, as many picked up the scent of life as well. They began to drool, allowing a yellow gelatinous liquid to seep down their chin, and snap their teeth as they inched closer to the door. They had been spurred by the intensity of desperation for food and starvation. The group crashed through the second revolving doors and rushed down the dark hallway. R grabbed at K's wrist, to find that the corpse tugged away and hissed at her.

"Stop," R whispered. K bared her teeth, threatening to bite her hand.

The group of corpses crawled and tumbled over one another as they navigated through zigzagged hallways and inclines of broken pieces of tile in the airport terminal. She looked up and glanced at the direction they were headed—food court—before she chased after them. They heaved and grunted as they ran, the overpowering scent of emotions and life teased them. As they neared closer to the food court, she began to hear noise.

Melodious chatter and clatters of pans. A rush of hot red spread across R's cheeks as she felt a bit of warmth and newfound adoration surge through her body. The amount of emotions pummeling her, caused a minor headache to pound her head. She clutched the sides of her head, dizzied by the emotions, and blurred vision.

As the corpses approached the floor level of the building, they began to groan loudly and form rows as they prepared to attack.

R exhaled deeply, pitying the two behind the door that would unknowingly face their death.

* * *

The hum of a dying refrigerator, and woven spider webs were the only occupants of the food court's kitchen. It was a plainly unhealthy area, due to its eerie dampness and fungous growths in the multitude of pantries and cellars. The sickish smell of mildew and urine followed the two teenagers as they scoured the kitchen for food. Gar stuffed his backpack with canned green beans and frozen pad Thai. His hand pushed the boxes of Salisbury steaks aside, since he had quite the distaste for meat, and snatched a jar of vanilla ice cream. As he opened the lid, the ice cream contained a green, furry fungi and brown tint to it. He grimaced and put it back. Across the room, Terra flashed her light at a pantry as she searched for any edible canned goods. She jumped back when her foot tapped against a solid object. Terra looked down and smiled.

"Cheese!" She bent down, cradling the blue can in her hands. "Gar, come look." He peered at her over his shoulder and returned the smile. Stuffing a box of salted crackers inside his backpack, he zipped up the bag and walked over to her. She motioned for him to come closer. "We haven't seen stuff like this in the enclave for a while. Do you know how long it's been since we had cheese?!"

"I'm gonna guess—a pretty long time. Yuck, dude, that's totally rotted out," he grimaced, pinching his nose shut. The stench made his eyes water. "Gross. It smells!"

"Aw, pretty princess, it's just moldy cheese," Terra taunted, waving the can in front of his face. "Bet ya ten bucks you'll eat some." He stared at her wide-eyed. "No, I take that back. I officially triple-dog-dare you to eat it."

"Triple-dog-dare me?!" he whined.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Wanna quadruple it?"

"No way! I can handle moldy cheese."

Terra smirked. "Prove it."

"Fine! Just give it here," he muttered, snatching the can from Terra's grasp. He peeled the lid back with his fingers and gulped. Gar turned to Terra. "If I die, you can't have my comic book collection because you kinda killed me."

"Wouldn't think of it! Bon appétit!" She clamped a hand over her mouth and giggled as he dug his hand inside the can."Wait. Gar, come on. Don't eat that! You're gonna get sick."

"And if I get a wicked stomach ache, well, it's a good thing we picked up some meds," he laughed, tossing the can to the side. "Right?"

"Right."

Terra's smile faltered, and she began to toy with her fingers. "Look, Gar, there's somethin' I've gotta tell you."

"Oh. Okay." He sat next to her and hugged his knees. "Sounds pretty serious."

"It is," she mumbled. "Promise you won't tell anyone."

"Shoot."

"Okay." She placed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I mean, you know you're the best friend I've ever had."

He smiled. "Duh, already knew that."

"Yeah," she replied, voice trailing off as she pieced her thoughts together. Terra ran her hand down her face. "Gosh, I dunno how to say this. You might not wanna be my friend anymore."

"I'm _always_ gonna be your friend," he assured with a light chuckle and nudged her shoulder. When she could not smile back, Gar stopped laughing and frowned. "Dude, seriously though. What's—what's going on? You're totally freaking me out."

"I know," she nodded. "I know. But..I did something really stupid. ..With the medicine."

"Like what?" Gar stared at her, his eyes narrowing as Terra held her head in her hands. "Terra, what'd you do?"

She took a deep breath and turned to Gar. Her eyes welled with tears. Terra shook her head. "I promise, it's gonna help. He promised me it would—"

"Wait." He pressed a finger to her lips as his nose wrinkled. "Do you hear that?"

Terra furrowed her eyebrows. "Hear what?"

"Listen."

"Gar, you're scaring me." Terra's eyes swiveled back and forth as she searched the room. "Hear what?" she whispered.

"Shh. Listen!" Gar reached for his pocket that concealed the gun, and slowly rose from his seat beside her. "You don't hear that—"

The hoard of undead burst through the door, trampling over another to reach them. Terra scrambled to her feet, letting out a scream.

"Gar, we've gotta go!"

One, with an eyeball loosely hung from its socket, lunged at her. Terra retrieved a switchblade from her back pocket and shoved it in the corpse's skull. It stumbled back, stunned from the attack and limply fell to the ground. She clenched her teeth as she stepped over its unmoving body and tugged the blade out of its head. It made a crunching sound as the blade was pulled out and she turned to her right, stabbing the weapon into a second corpse hovered behind her. The two were separated into opposite sides of the room as the creatures piled inside.

"Dude, get off!" Gar shrugged off his backpack, and gripped the straps, swinging the heavy pack around to knock over his attackers. He looked over his shoulder and screamed out, "Terra!" as she was cornered into a wall.

A haggardly corpse tugged at her arm and sunk its teeth into her flesh. Terra shrieked, falling to the ground while her wails became muffled. The taste of blood flooded the creature's lips and it hissed at her when pools of blood flowed out of its mouth. Terra's boots were tugged from her foot as another corpse straddled her and pulled her head upward. As she screamed, it forced her down, and cracked her head on the tile. The creature sank its teeth into the back of her head, and ripped away her flesh. It dug its fingers into the crack of her skull, and pried it open, reveling in the pulsing brain that was now exposed. The corpse hissed, and pierced its teeth into the hot, fleshy brain, taking a ravenous bite—and pulled away a chunk of it as it chewed.

Gar pushed a mob of undead, clawing at his skin away from him. "Terra!" he shrieked, eyes frantically searching the room for her. He could see nothing but more skeletal creatures force their way into the room, tearing apart the cabinets to reach him. "_Terra_!"

She snatched the neck of the corpse, flinging it behind her. R tilted her head, mouth quivering as she examined the lifeless body lain in a pool of warm blood. She crawled on her knees to reach the woman. "No, no, no," she whispered, as she rolled her body over. Her hands brushed aside the blonde bangs, and felt over her face.

She shut her eyes, allowing her hands to crawl over to the brain. R chanted her mantra in a last minute attempt to view the dying woman's memories. The trickles of life's memory spray out of the woman's cells like a citrus mist. It was bitter, sweet, tangy, yet fresh and new. R's eyelid twitched as she absorbed them all. It felt warm and mesmerizing. The memories had a pulse as she sucked in its light air, heart pounding rhythmically in her chest. She could only catch vague pieces of a laboratory full of syringes, rocks, and a "Gar". Her thoughts were torn away by the sound of gunfire. She released her connection from the girl, and lurched forward, heaving a dry gag and sucking in a ragged breath.

R stood up and looked around the room, dizzied and unstable from a reel of lost memories. Her hands shook as she weakly massaged her temples in a circular motion. She had never had such a deep vision of warm emotions spool and unravel in her head before. The sting of tears singed her eyes, though she did not allow herself to cry. Her hand moved from her temple and pressed against her chest.

She felt—pain.

The disoriented woman turned her head as she heard a nearby scream. R furrowed her eyebrows, looking back at the corpses as they continued to hiss. She pushed aside the mob of undead, to find a disheveled boy backed into a corner. He reeked of paranoia, yet, a comforting familiarity. She closed her eyes, a vague flash of a "Gar" crossing her mind. It was him, huddled in a corner, lightly sobbing as a weapon wobbled in his hand. He had grown, perhaps the age of nineteen, since she last seen him in the woman's memories. The letters of his name rolled off her tongue like honey as she familiarized herself with his face.

A series of gunshots pulsated through the dark room as Gar fired. His tear-stricken face had paled as his chin quivered. The creatures began to cower, some slithered away and some continued to hiss when he fired again. Though a few feet away, R clawed her way toward him, knocking over her companions in the process. He smashed the head of a corpse with the end of his pistol and fired again. Gar winced as K appeared in front of him, and gripped her hand around his wrist, forcing the gun down.

K pushed closer to the boy, fingernails digging into his skin. He screamed and pressed his back against the wall. She opened her mouth and snarled, body rumbling as she leaned against his chest. Before Gar could fire a second shot, the corpse was shoved away. Gar's eyes widened as a hooded figure approached him. Four pairs of red eyes blinked at him. He gulped.

"No," the cloaked figure hissed, a guttural growl emerging from its throat, while it scolded the befallen corpse. "_Mine_, K."

K scowled, and grit her teeth as if warning to turn against the being. Before K could attack, a gunshot tore through her shoulder, and she skittered across the room to safety behind two other creatures. Gar's eyes widened as the red-eyed being approached him; his trembling hand shakily raised the gun toward its head and his fingers felt around for the trigger. It stared at him, reaching its hands toward his face.

"I—I'm gonna shoot!" he shrieked, letting his eyes shut while his hands continued to tremble. The gun rattled in between his fingers. R glanced at the weapon, then back at his face. "I swear I'm gonna do it, zombie dude!"

R moved closer, careful to repeat her mantra under her breath to prevent suffocation from his fluctuating emotions. He pressed his back harder against the wall, and slowly turned his head, to look away from her. R held out her palms, covered in black blood, and gently smeared it across his face. Her cold, nimble fingers traced his neck and shirt.

Gar opened one eye, observing the cloaked being's actions, and slowly put the gun down. "W—What are you doing?" he whispered, teeth chattering as he spoke. He didn't flinch, waiting for the creature to finish smearing the blood over his face.

Once she was finished, R gripped his hand and dragged him away from the wall. She kept her head low, inspecting the remaining corpses as they finished devouring Terra's slain body. They turned their head in her direction, but she did not speak a word, tightening her grip on Gar's hand as she dragged him toward the exit. He staggered behind her, eyes glazed, as he stared straight ahead. His emotions had died down.

She figured he had entered a state of shock.

He sniffed, trembled fingers clutched around her skin. Gar's palms were warm and dampened, she'd occasionally lose her grip around it. He hadn't spoken a word or pulled away from her. R shrugged, she could suffice with the silence.

As they exited the room, R caught K sniffing the air from the corner of her eye. She let out a sigh of relief as she knew they smelled the same scent—nothing.

It was over.

The corpses could only smell the scent of the undead's splattered blood, and its dark musk concealed Gar's lively glow. He stumbled over his foot a few times as she quickly rounded dark corners and through exits. He watched, half-consciously, as they silently exited out the terminal.

Without a word, she guided him out of the airport, and outside.

A breeze had picked up, ruffling her cloak. Gar shuddered, but hadn't moved to warm himself. R looked up at the sky. The horizon now had a swirl of cerulean and violet, signaling nightfall. She tugged his arm, dragging him down the street, as her thoughts whirred in a kaleidoscopic daze. Gar clung onto her hand, staring at the side of her hood with widened eyes and trembled lips.

* * *

**Sorry for Terra's gruesome death. I know you might be annoyed with Raven being "R", but I'm trying to stick to the Warm Bodies acronym. Don't worry, she'll become "Raven" later in the story. "K" is NOT an OC. Every character in this story is Teen Titans canon. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please continue to read and review! I'll do a mailbag next chapter. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

"Someone's got a crush." He scowled as the larger man, covered in metallic prosthetics, nudged his shoulder. Gar shoved his hand away.

"Shut up, Cyborg," he muttered. Gar tilted his head toward the projection screen. "Not a crush, just—paying attention to the lecture, dude. S'all I'm doing."

"Uh huh. Payin' attention." Cyborg chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fifty bucks says you're lookin' at twelve o'clock. New kid alert."

Gar wrinkled his nose. "Am not." He narrowed his eyes at the screen, as it switched to a new slide displaying various diagrams of pharmaceuticals and their description. He stopped reading mid-sentence and allowed his eyes to travel to the girl seated in front of him. For the past week, since she had arrived at the enclave, he had only caught a small glimpse of her face; other than that, it had been the back of her head. Gar's palms began to get sweaty and he wiped them against his thighs. Her head bowed as she scribbled more notes into her journal, occasionally tapping the pen against her chin as she thought. A tinge of dark red coated Gar's cheeks and he scratched his thumb against his jean pocket. "I mean..I'm not a total creeper or anythin' but—"

"Whoa, whoa, hold up," Cyborg interrupted. "Common sense, man. When someone usually says 'I'm not a creeper but', you're kinda acknowledgin' you're a creeper."

"Dude, was not!"

"And how many times have you stalked this girl?" Gar glared at his friend.

"Cy—"

"Alright, alright. I'm just jokin'. Continue."

"I dunno," he whispered. "Can't put my finger on it. She's kinda different."

"Kinda different." Cyborg smirked, using air quotes for emphasis. "Huh, that's a new one."

"Uh, English?"

"This is comin' from the same dude that thinks wearin' the same underwear for a week is 'kinda different'."

Gar scowled. "Nevermind, Cy. You know, forget I even said anything."

"Aw, don't get all emotional now—" The two friends glanced up as the theater lights brightened and each moviegoer rose from their seat. "And it looks like we're out of time."

"That lecture was so boring anyway," Gar whined. "I don't even remember anything. Somethin' about pharma-salvage. Eh, you know, I'll copy from Robin later."

"You're tellin' me." Cyborg began to collect his journal and pen, stuffing it under his arm. "Well, that was a waste."

"I'll say," Gar huffed, snatching his single piece of paper. "GameStation?"

"Tempting, but I've gotta pass." Cyborg's shoulders slumped. "Robin wants to set up some training course or somethin'. Besides," Cyborg gave Gar a rough pat on the back; his head cocked toward the girl. Cyborg chuckled and began to walk away. "You've got some work to do. Get ya skinny butt to it!"

"Yeah, yeah," Gar grumbled. "You totally owe me!"

"You wish!" Cyborg shot back.

The theater began to empty as people formed single file lines near the exit. Gar sighed, crumpling the paper in his hand and tossing it aside before walking away. He stopped mid-step and squeezed his eyes shut as he mentally scolded himself. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched her collect her belongings and stuff them into her yellow backpack. He took a deep breath, taking five steps back to stand next to her. Gar awkwardly shoved his hands in his pocket and blinked. "Hi." She looked up, mildly surprised by the sudden conversation, and placed a lock of hair behind her ear. She took a good look at his face, then back to her bag as she continued to pack.

The void of pure silence filled between the two burdened Gar. He watched her sling the strap of her backpack over her shoulder and released his held breath as she walked away. He began to follow behind her. "Gar," he called.

She slowed her pace, giving him a smile as she peered over her shoulder. "I'm—"

_Terra_.

The boy's sleeping frame jolted as he screamed her name aloud. He slowly rolled over onto his back, while his legs and arms trembled. His breathing had hitched as his chest heaved up and down. Everything in Gar's body ached when he awoke. His heavy, swollen eyelids peeled back and he winced due to their stinging sensation. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes in circles, he yawned and pushed himself upright. From what he could tell, he had been sleeping on a floor covered in dirt. It was worse not knowing when he had fallen asleep. It was worse enough that he had awoken in complete darkness—and possibly alone. It was odd. He knew they had been swarmed, he knew that thing dragged him around for what seemed like hours—yet, he had been so terrified to even keep track of where it had led him, and he slept a lot. However, he didn't know what happened to Terra and he had no idea what he was going to do or how he was going to escape.

"Terra?" he croaked, massaging his sore throat. Not a single response. His eyes searched the room frantically as he began to panic. "Are you here?" Gar lifted from the floor to let out an throaty cry as his body was tugged back. He dropped to the ground, hand inching toward his ankle. His eyes widened.

His foot was shackled.

"No freaking way," he whispered and felt around for the chain. Gar struck the back of his head against the wall letting out cries of anguish and curses as he pulled on its chain. For some reason, it wasn't a normal metal chain. The restraint was black and translucent. Somewhat of a gelatin-like blob. He lifted the chain in the air, watching it in awe as it levitated before dropping. Gar slammed the palm of his hand against the floor. "No, no, come on! This thing's gotta open!"

With a groan, he tugged at the restraint; using his fingernails to pry the shackle around his ankle free. His chin quivered as the minutes passed by, leaving his fingers bloodied and calloused. He moved his hand away from his shackled ankle and sighed. When it did not release him, he let his body falter and curled into a fetal position on the ground. His shoulders had slumped over as he hugged his knees. Gar was cold, since the room had been unnaturally eerie and damp, and his teeth had chattered while he lay his body down. If this was his last day, he wished the misery would have ended sooner.

Due to the darkness of the room, he could make out nothing but dark lumps of piled rocks, masses of chests and silhouette of different items, and the barely visible white patch of dimmed light where he assumed a small oil lamp was placed. A small clink of the chain and he felt a heavy pressure release from around his skin. Gar massaged his freed ankle as he kicked aside the shackle.

"They seriously couldn't have done that earlier?" he whispered, hugging his knees tighter to his chest. Gar lay horizontally, letting the sound of his heavy breathing drown out the eerie silence.

It was then that he realized he was truly alone.

His eyes had welled and turned a bloodshot red. Though his lips quivered, he was unable to call out her name again or to simply utter any cry for help. The heavy weight in his chest forced a choked sob in the back of his throat. A hot stream of tears trailed down his cheek, eventually clinging onto his clothing and dripping from his pouted lip. He could do nothing but consume his misery until he let his eyelids weigh down his exhaustion as they drooped. With a yawn, he blinked a final time before letting his eyes shut and allowed his mind to carry him into a small slumber.

From behind the door, she pressed her head against its frame and sighed. Her fingertips still crackled with a black, zig-zagged blob of dead energy. He would sleep for the next few hours, and she figured he'd find comfort without being restrained—allowing her powers to take form of a claw and slither underneath the door to remove the hold on his ankle. If he even ran outside, he'd be swarmed by the dead creatures that lusted for his vibrancy and sparks of life. She hadn't made an effort to warn him due to his deep slumbering for the past few days. He had to give them time to forget about his existence, make them think he became one of them. But he was too fearful, too emotionally wracked in which she couldn't even imagine getting a clear understanding from him. He needed time to tone down his waves of paranoia and confusion. The surge of memories leaked from the woman whirred and made her dizzy as flashes of happier times rushed through her mind. He was not always like this, he was kind, he was understanding. How times certainly changed.

Perhaps she could convince him otherwise when he awoke that he was safest in the bunker. She had finally done it; she finally found a person with a living heartbeat within her parameter. Though she feared whether his vibrancy would affect her capability of drowning out extra, unwanted emotions along with being unable to control her erratic power. It was best to just release him now.

Right now, she could open the door and never come in contact with him ever again. He would be too preoccupied with finding an exit. She could let him run far, he might make it back to where he came from. But she knew he wouldn't be able to, and the burden of guilt would weigh her down. R's head tilted.

Guilt. She felt—guilty. Guilty of leaving him to die when he did not seem to deserve it, guilty of viewing the memories of that woman, and guilty of thinking for a second that perhaps she could learn more about the others since that opportunity ended with K. Guilt. Well, that humanly sentiment was certainly new. R couldn't explain its bitter taste in her mouth and slight tremble in her fingers. Guilt made her feel—weird and empty inside, not her typical empty either.

She opened her hands and faced her palms upwards. A warmth engulfed her hand as she let her eyes shut, allowing a blue ball of heat to enlarge. Maybe she could heal him to make up for the guilt she felt. The corners of her lips dragged down into a frown and she clapped her hands together, crushing the ball. It smoldered and dissipated. A part of R wanted to mentally scold herself for getting so close to being exposed. She couldn't heal him, he'd know about it.

The sound of dirt shifted as she dragged her feet closer to her body and hugged her knees, pushing them toward her chest. The rattle of empty beakers and shuffled papers in the bunker startled her, and she repeated her mantra to herself to calm her frazzled nerves. His emanation of sadness flowed through her veins and numbed her mind. R squeezed her eyes shut, letting her body absorb all the pain and heaviness he possessed. For Gar's world was lost to him and she knew that there was nothing she could do but witness it.

For once, she also felt—grief.

* * *

"How is he?"

From beneath the dark sunglasses he wore, his eyes shifted from straight ahead to fixate on his feet. "He doesn't want to talk. He just—" Robin shrugged his shoulders. "He just works on the car all day. He's not coming out the garage anytime soon."

"That is very unfortunate." Kori blew the bangs away from her eyes and pouted. "It is unhealthy for Cyborg to preoccupy his time inside of the garage."

"He misses him."

"As do I."

"Well, we can't just sit around and wait for Gar to return. Cyborg or not, the enclave needs protection," Robin huffed. "Someone's got to do it. These people need us."

"Robin, do you think that perhaps they are—"

"No." He shook his head. "Of course not. Don't worry Kori, he's coming back."

She forced a smile upon her lips. "I would very much like to hope that you are correct."

The part of the day where they would venture through the area, seeking for those that caused trouble, wasn't Kori's favorite. It wasn't as if their president had instructed the five teenagers to do so, but it had been under Robin's insistence that they protect everyone as much as they could; seeing as the president's guards patrolling the grand wall's entrance and irrigation system hadn't done such a great job. She was well aware that most of the enclave suffered with poverty-stricken environments and lack of proper living conditions, but it was the best they all could do to survive. So they took it upon themselves to protect what was theirs and the freedom of others without his permission. Without Terra, Garfield, or Cyborg, it left her and Robin to the task. It wasn't as safe, but at least some citizen could sleep easy that night. Kori stood side-by-side with Robin, careful not to brush his hand during their trek, as they passed by broken down huts. It was then that she wondered how comfortably their beloved president was living, if even comfortably at all. She scoffed to herself at such a negative thought.

"You alright?" Robin whispered.

"I am well," she replied. "Where is our destination this time?"

"Just down to the aqueduct and back. It'll be quick this time." She nodded.

Dirtied mist and snow clung onto the skeletal-like tree branches, plopping into a gush of piled up snow on the ground. Robin kicked it aside with his boot, crushing the slush with the ball of his heel. Kori giggled, clamping a hand over her mouth. He smiled. "What? What's so funny?"

"It is the most disgusting yet entertaining sight I have witnessed in my life," she chuckled.

The pavement held a network of cracks, many were now invaded by a variety of raggedy weeds. The shrubbery flourished in the deep crevices, allowing splashes of lush green to add a small amount of color into the grimy compound.

"I believe that you cannot catch me," she teased.

Robin smirked. "Wanna bet?"

"You have forgotten that I am a skilled runner when chased." Kori started to skip ahead of him, causing Robin to jog after her. "You are the slow poke!"

He stopped running when the sound of feet slipping over loose rubble startled him. "Wait, Kori—"

"Are you not fast enough, friend?" Kori called over her shoulder as she increased her running pace.

"Wait, Kori! Stop!" His eyes traveled to Kori as she continued to hum and skip, then straight ahead toward the aqueduct. More voices drew near, some shouting profanities and some letting out hearty laughs. He sprinted toward her with all his might. "Kori, stop!" he shouted. Kori glanced over her shoulder, nearly toppling over when Robin ran into her.

"What is the matter?!" she asked.

He rushed to his feet, ignoring the pain from the scrapes on his knees. Robin snatched Kori's wrist. She squealed when he tugged her behind a nearby building. He slid down the wall, as she was pulled close to his chest, and clamped his left hand over her mouth.

"Don't move, don't speak," he grit through his clenched teeth. "They're close."

Her eyebrows furrowed when she looked up at him. Kori began to murmur muffled words and he shook his head. "Shh. Count of three, I'll let you go."

She nodded, gently plucking his hand away from her mouth. When the silent count was completed, Robin released her. He dropped to the ground to crawl closer, at an attempt to peek behind the wall. Kori kicked her feet to back away from him. He slid his body against the pavement, cautious to make as little noise as possible. If they were caught, they were shot. No questions asked.

A group of fifteen men were attired in a gray jumpsuit, with one hand on their utility belt and the other on a rifle. Patrol officers, as they had an official enclave symbol marked on the arm of their uniforms. They stood in a horizontal line, making way for the gate to open. A thinly framed officer appeared, running past the line as he pushed a hospital stretcher. One of the men in line waved his arms to signal the figure stationed at the watchtower. With a loud creak, the gates began to slowly shut.

The lump was concealed by a white blanket and wobbled as the stretcher's wheels ran over pebbles and shrubs. From beneath the blanket, a gray foot slid over the edge, its big toe grazed over the ground.

"Sir." A figure standing in line prodded the foot with the end of his rifle.

The officer stopped pushing, to lift the leg back underneath the blanket before nodding to his comrades. Simultaneously, the group surrounded him and followed the man into a building. Robin's eyebrows furrowed.

"What the—"

"You both shouldn't be here," a voice shouted. Robin and Kori turned their attention to the dark figure as it approached them. "President's orders. No citizens near the irrigation line."

* * *

Her hand hesitantly reached for the knob, but she froze. He could have been asleep for all she knew, or awake and violent. But he had to get up sooner or later.

R took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to enter. She slowly pushed the chamber door open, watching a small ray of hallway light bleed through the room. From what she could sense, he had not been alarmed nor afraid. Gar's body slumped against the wall and he held his head in between his hands. His skin was fleshy and mushy, somewhat healthy. Though, it did have a sickly, pale tint to it. With what little light she had, there had been a slight green effect to his skin. But she figured it was a reaction to the grotesque sight he had witnessed previously. Splattered blood and guts didn't ease the queasiness in her stomach the first time she experienced watching the corpses feed on humans.

He sluggishly lifted his head to look at her. His eyes were puffy, as if he had been crying for hours, and buried under bright red rims. He lifted his hand, as it trembled in the process, to run it through his unkempt and disheveled hair. She figured to brush loose strands away from his face. Gar wiped the back of his hand across his nose and sniffed as he stared at her. He looked completely helpless and emptied of any emotion. She dropped to her knees, eventually folding her legs under her body and into a sitting position; a safe distance away from Gar. Her hands gently rested on her lap and she stared back at him.

"What do you want with me?" He sniffed again, wiping his nose with the hem of his shirt. She didn't move an inch. Gar scoffed. "Oh, so we're doing that? The silent game? Dude, I _invented_ the silent game."

Again, not a single response.

He let out a dry chuckle as he leant his head back against the wall. "Tough audience. Wow, just shoot me now."

His humor was somewhat obnoxious and pointless to her. She couldn't figure out whether she'd take him up on his offer or watch him slowly lose his sanity as they stared one another down. Overall, his mind had been racing—and she could sense this by his façade of weak, yet slightly jovial, comments. R sighed, resting her head in the palm of her right hand. This movement seemed to startle Gar, as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, dragging his feet closer to his body. How he longed for a weapon so he could kill it and run. This sinister-looking thing freaked him out.

"What's up with the hood?" he murmured, pointing his finger toward the top of her head. R frowned. What was wrong with her hooded cloak? "Why are you just sitting there? Dude, what do you want from me?"

What she did want? Nothing. She wasn't even sure why she didn't let him end up like K. It would've been easier. He might have had a chance to end it all. He wasn't going to make it alive anyway. But there was something familiar and comforting of having another person around her that kept R drawn to saving him. She figured it might have been her connection to the woman's memories. Big mistake. For everytime she looked at him, she got a glimpse of happier times—of a woman by the name of Terra's happier times that Gar happened to be apart of. This intrigued R. The use of security and comfort was newfound and a waste of time if she were to easily let it go. She—sort of wanted to help him—for Terra. But a part of her wanted to learn more about his life for herself. What was it like? There certainly had to be more than him out there? Odd.

Gar's lips began to pucker and his chin quivered. She could see the tears welling in his eyes, but he blinked hard enough to rid them away. He slammed his fists against the ground, a threatening gesture that would've made the average person wince. However, he furrowed his eyebrows as R did nothing but remain in place. This thing didn't even flinch! The corner of his lips curled up into a snarl. He bared his teeth. "What do you _want_ with me?!" he demanded. "What is it? _What_? What do you _want_?"

She watched as he stammered and shouted a plethora of open-ended inquiries at her. She watched his face turn from a pale color of green to a dark blue as he was running out of breath. He gasped at his last inquiry, taking in a deep breath before he stopped talking altogether. Gar slowly ran his hand down his face, letting out a sigh. He obviously wasn't getting any immediate answer or scaring this thing away. R rolled her eyes. It was apparent this boy talked. A lot.

She just _had_ to save the chatterbox.

As if he were reading her mind, Gar looked up at her. "So...why did you save me? The blood? This stuff on my face—" He winced, peeling a flake of dried blood from his face, and held it in the palm of his hand. "What was that about?" he whispered, the rasp of his voice cracking through the dead silence. When the hooded figure could do no more than tilt its head, Gar sighed in frustration. Obviously it didn't speak English. _Fantastic_.

"Okay, let's see." He rubbed his temples in a circular motion, forcing himself to think of an easier way to explain himself to this thing. "Are you going to kill me?" He used his hands to mimic eating cereal. "Like—eat? You eat me? Nom nom? Tasty human?"

From underneath her hood, R quirked an eyebrow. She didn't think of the human species to behave like such—Neanderthals. This boy obviously lacked proper grammar and English certainly wasn't his first language. The way he continued to pretend to eat a bowl of, whatever he was pretending to eat, was certainly amusing to her. Yet, confusing. She wasn't a cannibal. The thought of eating another human being disgusted her. She began to ponder whether that was a typical tradition where he had come from. He clearly had it instilled in his mind that he was going to be eaten by her.

R turned her head to avoid looking at him pretend to eat, as the trinkets and collected items in her memorabilia were piled together suddenly caught her eye. The collection almost reached the door now. Everytime she entered the city or airport, she would bring one back. A record player, a shot glass, a puzzle, a wooden chest, a plastic doll. Her hand inched toward the inside of her cloak and she retrieved the necklace from earlier, running the pad of her thumb over its sleek surface. She once brought K inside to introduce her to these new items. They gained no interest to her. Perhaps Gar had more where he came from. R began to wonder why she even collected these items in the first place, but could conclude that she didn't have an exact answer. It just fascinated her.

"Well? Are you gonna eat me or not?" Gar asked, his voice rising a bit higher and more panicked. She looked back in his direction and seen him press his back against the wall. Almost as if he were prepared to spring forward and run. To eat him whole? How carnivorous of her. "Are you gonna—"

"I won't," she cut off. His lips became tight and pale; his eyes staring back at her own. Though, he could not see her face. This thing actually talked to him. It could speak. He let out a sigh of relief. R shook her head. "I won't eat—_you_."

"Then _why_ me?" he asked, hugging his knees tighter against his chest. "Why'd you help me?"

His tone had almost pleaded for an answer, though his emotions betrayed this thought. He had become angry, and the sharp pang of warm fury rolled off her body in waves. R couldn't keep up with his emotional fluctuations much longer as she gripped her knees to steady her swaying body. Her eyes darted from his bewildered face to the record player and she crawled toward it. Gar wrinkled his nose.

"Hey! What are you doing?" he called.

She dug her hands through the collection of LPs, and lifted an album from the stack. She gently blew off the dust and placed it inside of the rusted device. R glanced over her shoulder to peek at Gar, who had still remained frozen and wide-eyed. It crackled for a few seconds, before blending a soft melody together. The sound of violins and piano riffs were faint, but soothing. It was distant and beautifully tragic, but enough to allow him to relax. He slightly smiled. "I've heard this before," he said, mouthing the words to the song. "Frank Sinatra, I think." R moved back to her designated spot and watched as his face softened.

"Safe," she assured quietly. This conversation with him had been the most she had spoken in years. She didn't carry a conversation often, due to her isolation, and that there was no one to properly speak to. She touched her lips with her fingertips, indulging in the foreign taste of complex words in her mouth. R put her hand down to nod at him. "You're—safe."

Gar couldn't help but let the uncontrollable words rush out of his mouth. He tilted his head, regarding the figure with disbelief. "What are you?" he whispered.

He could feel that its response was hesitant, as if contemplating the "what if's" of his question. Before he could ask again, it inched its fingers toward the hood and slid it off its head. Short, choppy violet tresses tumbled from underneath the hood, accentuated by her matching eyes. She had a bored look on her face, though it expressed the slightest hint of curiosity. Her skin was a soggy, worn out gray and her lips had formed a thin line as she looked him up and down. Gar's eyes widened.

"You're a _girl_?!"

* * *

The approaching footsteps clopped down the muddy path. It sunk its boot into a puddle of sooty water and squishy shrubs. As the noise of heavy, pattering feet came to a halt, the man stared at the two before him while they huddled against the wall. The man was attired in an enclave jumpsuit that differed from his fellow officers, as it was of a navy blue color. His heavy eyelids hung at half mast, giving him a placid, bored look. He had a long-boned face and sculpted jawline; he blinked, attempting to stare at them for as long as he could.

"You're breaking several enclave laws, punishable by execution." His expression was stern, however held a slight melancholic hint to it. The tightness of his jaw transfigured when he smiled at the two. His beady eyes were sunken in and switched between the girl and boy. His smile widened, providing the subtle humor that found their way to his lips. He chuckled. "I guess I could let it slide for a couple of friends."

"Friend Garth!" Kori quickly scrambled to her feet and tightly wrapped her arms around his neck. Garth nearly toppled over, reciprocating her warm embrace.

Robin cursed under his breath, dusting off his pant leg as he rose from the ground. "_Really_, Garth?" he huffed.

Garth smiled, releasing his hold on Kori. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave a playful squeeze. The corner of Robin's mouth slightly twitched. "Hey, it's apart of my job. You don't know how many people try to poison our water system and how many times I have to play temporary lifeguard." He stabbed his thumb in the direction of the aqueduct. Kori and Robin turned their attention to it. "People mess around over there all the time and drown."

Robin nodded. "I could imagine. By the way, congratulations on the promotion."

Garth hung his head sheepishly and smiled. "Thank you," he replied. "Being the president's personal water boy and fisherman could only last me so long."

"Yes, and you are the most experienced with our aquatic life," Kori added, nudging his side. Garth chuckled.

"Well, Kori, I don't like to brag but—thanks."

"I would also like to send my condolences." Kori bit her bottom lip when Garth began to fidget. "She would be proud of you, friend. I can imagine the hardship you have faced—"

"It's fine, actually," he interrupted. Garth shook his head, exhaling slowly. He dropped his arm from around Kori's shoulder to twist the silver chain hanging from his neck. "I mean, we all have to go some day. I guess, it's harder for the twins to come to grips. She was like our sister." His gaze dropped to his feet and he scuffed his boot against the dirt. "Bee's in a better place now. I just—I just wish she didn't have to be the one to volunteer herself. You know?" Kori and Robin nodded. Letting the silence linger far too long for his taste, Garth finally cleared his throat. "So, speaking of volunteers, any word from Gar or Terra?"

Robin frowned. "None."

"How's Cyborg handling it?"

"Not well. Robin mentioned earlier that he now secludes himself in the garage." Kori shrugged her shoulders. "He refuses to speak to us."

"Terra's smart. She wouldn't let Gar get into any trouble. They'll be back. I promise." Garth looked to Robin and tilted his head. "So may I ask what brings you both to the aqueduct?"

"Same thing, looking around."

"Ah." Garth leant closer to the two on his tiptoes, careful to keep his voice low. "Find anything interesting?"

"Thought you might be able to tell us the same thing," Robin responded, folding his arms over his chest. He cocked his head to the left. "What were all those officers doing?"

The smile on Garth's face faltered as his expression hardened. "Nothing."

"Garth," Robin pressed on.

He began to take a step back, holding up his hands in defense. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Robin quirked an eyebrow at his sudden hesitation. He glanced at Kori, who shared the same bewildered expression, then back to Garth. "Please do."

"Look, I don't think you should get involved. It's confidential information and that's all I can say."

"Huh, interesting," Robin drawled, stroking his chin as he thought. "What about for a friend? Consider exchanging this information a favor?"

"A favor? For?"

Robin smirked. "Dumping all those fish tacos out of Speedy's refrigerator last month."

"You didn't," Garth whispered as his mouth dropped in awe.

"Ah," Kori held up her forefinger and smiled. "But he did. I witnessed this event."

"Robin, you sly dog," Garth chuckled, gently shoving his friend's shoulder. "Alright, alright. Fair enough. Though, I can't confirm if it's true or not. Don't take my word for it."

"About what?"

"Well—" They froze at the sound of gravel crunching behind them. The color drained from Garth's face. It stopped briefly before continuing in patterns of short, defined footsteps. Garth turned to Robin, nodding his head. "Both of you go home, go now," he urged, swatting his hand at them to move forward.

Robin's nose wrinkled. "But what about—"

There came another footstep, much slower as if the person was trying to be quiet. Garth squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of a proper solution. He shook his head. "I'll meet you at your place around 8. Now _go_!"

* * *

"Let me get this straight. You're a girl?" he squealed. "No way."

He had been repeating the same sentence for over ten minutes; as if he would come up with a different answer each time. R traced imaginary circles with her fingers on the floor. She kept her gaze down, and shrugged.

"Dye your hair? It's like—super purple." He sifted his hand through his hair. "Yeah, I kinda wanted to dye mine. Probably something like green or blue. Maybe I'll do the tips first," he chuckled. R couldn't understand why he spoke to her so freely, as if they were longtime friends—as if he suddenly got over his shock and the severity of his current predicament. It was _too_—calm. Almost eerily calm. She couldn't detect any distress in his tone or any deceitful emotions. He was oddly calm. His contentment in the conversation did not sit well with her. She shifted uncomfortably. Gar's eyebrows pulled together and he adjusted his sitting position. "Not much of a talker, huh?" Her left eye twitched. Gar rested his head on his left hand and looked her up and down. "So, like, are you one of them or something?"

R's fingers stopped tracing as her eyes trailed to her hand. Her flesh was gray, dull, and awfully skeletal-like. She gazed at her nimble fingers, bony and thin. Her lips pressed together in a thin line and she deeply exhaled through her nose. One of them? She—didn't know. At some point, she liked to believe she wasn't. But there were very few half-demon people lurking around the ruined city—and friends with the corpses that happened to feed on his kind. She didn't know what she was.

Sensing he struck a nerve, Gar raised an eyebrow. "So...I take that as a no?" Not a single response. He sighed. "Never mind."

Gar drummed his fingers against the ground, his lips dragging downwards and into a frown. The heavy pang in her chest made R shudder. She suddenly felt cold, and sullen. A majority of this depressing aura had been emitted from Gar. "I don't...know...if you know or anything. S'okay if you don't," he whispered, clearing his throat to rid himself of a choked sob. R lifted her head, as it tilted curiously to the left. He shrugged his shoulders. "I came to airport with someone. A girl. My best friend." His hand moved down from his head to his shoulder to describe the length. "Hair about this long, blonde. And..her name is Terra. I don't know—I mean—I really don't know what happened to her or if she's here.." R turned her face away from him. "And—wait. Hey, where are you going?" She stood up and swiftly walked to her stack of collected items. R dug through the pile and tossed a blanket to Gar, as he caught it with ease. He looked at the blanket, then back to R's face. She straightened up, taking a final glance at the record player as the melody of the song drowned out. Gar's bewildered gaze followed her as she gently closed the door.

* * *

The airport parking garage was her favorite place to meditate. She once found a classic Mercedes convertible, and had taken several months to play around with it. There wasn't any instruction manual or a description of what a car was in her spellbooks. But she picked up on the handiness of a car when she would read them in her old novels.

After weeks of attempting to start it, once she found the keys and eventually dented the doors as she tossed dark energy at it in a fit of rage, the ragged car rumbled to life. She learned to fill the tank with what hefty barrels of stabilized gasoline she had found in one of the empty service rooms. And although R would sit in the barely functional car, she had no idea how to drive. She accepted this inability to her advantage, opting to use it as a meditation spot. The garage was isolated and the sound of its grumbly engine soothed her.

At times, she'd sit and rest her hands on the wheel, listening to the car purr as she'd marvel at the new memories that'd pop into her head. It was somewhat like watching a movie. Some were hazy impressions from people she attempted to help, that were now corpses. Some were a sliver of vague awareness that had cribbed from her collection of subconscious thoughts.

She often thought of her own memories, vying for one that was vivid and bright. Something that was her own. But she could no more but pull away from delving into her mind, hands trembling at the recollected memories of her father and homeland. Her eyes widened as the car had violently shook when it became encased in black. She strained herself to wrench it out of the blackness, and angrily snatched the key from the ignition. R rested her forehead on the steering wheel and sighed. What was her purpose in life besides destruction?

The sad truth was that, in actuality, she didn't have a purpose.

* * *

She decided to meet K later that evening in her home, as K resided in the women's bathroom. R watched her from the doorway. K had been seated in a plastic folding chair, her hands placed atop her lap, and her head leant back. She wondered if K was angry at her for her hostile behavior earlier, but remembered that as much as she wanted it to hurt—K wouldn't feel it. Perhaps it was kind of a deathly thing. Sometimes, it was a relief for R. No one to feel emotions, it kept her powers in check. Her eyes softened as she gazed at K. There were moments when she could get a small glimpse at the person she once was behind all the rotted flesh. Warm, bronze, and a smile that accentuated her face. It sent a cold shiver down her spine knowing that K was now dead.

"Have...more...if want," K grumbled, without turning to look at R. She lifted her hand to hold up a human brain. Apparently fresh from her previous hunting trip. It was no longer a neon pink, but it still buzzed with vibrant life and bundles of unwrapped memories. R particularly enjoyed the memories.

She sat against the bathroom wall, with her legs sprawled out and her palm open toward K. They passed the brain back and forth, with R sinking her fingers into it and tapping into its memories. She'd lean her head back, enjoying flashes of lost experiences. K would reach her hand for it, taking small leisurely bites. She never really understood why R never ate with her, though she wouldn't complain.

When they seemed to end their meal, after an hour of silent chewing, the brain had been down to a tiny chunk of pink tissue. K shoved it in her mouth, eyes dilated as her mind processed the memories. She envisioned lush grass and meadows. She seen a young man and woman jump through rain puddles, giggling as they held hands. K shook her head, disregarding the thought. For she was dead. Empty. Memories meant nothing to her. She wondered why they meant so much to R. K stared at R for a moment, annoyed and confused.

R met her gaze, letting her lips form a slight frown. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

If for a second, R nearly gasped when the corner of K's mouth tilted upward, in a weak attempt to make a smile. K hung her head. "What..ever."

It was getting late. She needed to return to the bunker before sunrise. Perhaps Gar was already resting, unaware of the dangers at night. R got up from the ground to dust off her cloak. She began to walk away when K nudged her skeletal arm against R's shoulder. K nodded. "Kidding..R."

* * *

**Oh, the drama is just getting started. Gar's not so calm "just because", he has motive. If you would please be so kind to leave a review, I'd appreciate it! :)**

MusicalMelody001 - Same here! I absolutely love Warm Bodies and Teen Titans. I thought it'd be a cool concept to incorporate both into one story. Thank you for your reviews. :)

Extromous - Hey! Welcome back. Thank you. Originally, Raven would be "Julie" and Gar as "R". But the whole boy saves girl cliché got old and Raven's character has so much potential and depth. Yeah, Poor Gar. He's all over the place right now..

JasonVUK - Hmm. Not sure about Kori, she was human in the second chapter. We'll see about K. :) Thank you!

Guest - Thanks. Can't wait for you to read the rest.

ravenfan - Ahh! That's so awesome that you like it. Thank you!

Dark Sides - Ehh, she's not really "dead" dead per say. She's still half human, half demon. Kinda dead, kinda not. Yes, Gar is alive. Thanks.

TimothyOnyx - Lol. I knew the flack for the BBTerra was coming. *sits back in chair and sips coffee* Sorry. It simply had to be done!

Marina - Oh, you catch on quick. :) We might see some small Titans East cameos later not sure yet (possibly; I have tendencies to change the direction of the story, but so far—keyword: so far—it looks inevitable).

Ever Winter Wood - Thank you!

EX3451 - Thanks. It's very loosely based. It's following close to an extent, but not too close as I'm throwing in my own twists and subplots. As for your guesses, we will see.

Guest - *scratches head* So..I'm glad you eventually found the fic! Haha. Thank you. :) I wanna know what Terra was gonna say too though..

Chibijac - I was actually really nervous writing her death scene. It usually goes left or right. So I hoped I achieved writing it well enough. Please do! It's really awesome. I'm terrified of thrillers or zombie movies, but I was pleasantly surprised with this one. It had a bit of comedy and pretty romantic. :)


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